Epiphany
by Silver Symphony
Summary: She fits all the pieces together... but it's too late.


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**Title: **_Epiphany _**_  
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**Author: **_Silver Symphony_

**Rated:** _T  
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**Summary: **_She fits all the pieces together... but it's too late._

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Sheets of rain tumble from bulky gray clouds born from the gloomy evening sky. Black mascara trickles down once rosy cheeks— a mixture of the stinging rain and salty tears. Her blonde hair, sleek and straight before the storm, clings uncomfortably to her face and neck. Water slithers into the crevices of her black bustier, saturated after thirty minutes of standing stock still.

Her boot-clad foot hovers over the rippled surface of the harbor. Rain drums noisily on the "no trespassing" sign clinging to the other side of the safety rail. Her presence has attracted a few stares, but she is completely oblivious to their perplexed gazes.

A hand clutches loosely to the rail. She can't muster the strength to release it, but her will to live has faded to the point that she doesn't want to keep a firm grip on it. Cold and slick from the rain… she and the rail have much in common.

Misa's heart is already frozen, and the rain isn't to blame. Three months ago on this day, Light died. A brutal death, it was. Dished out in the same fashion he had used to implement his fatal cruelty to others. An end befitting his monstrosities against humanity, his enemies cried.

And the tiny bit of Misa's heart that isn't jaded with revenge and resentment roars in agreement. Light was an insensitive bastard. A seed harvested in the deepest evil. And damn her soul to the eternal fires of hell for loving him so.

Light's 'reprehensible actions' were simply his calling from God. He had done God's work, and abided by that duty faithfully. And she had helped serve the love of her life and her God. And she wasn't abashed by that… so she told herself.

Misa detaches her hand from the rail, and she wobbles on the thin strip of concrete. Her boots are sleek with water, and one false movement would send her plummeting in the water. Yes, it's what she wants, eventually, but by her own volition.

Every day, every minute, every second that is she forced to wear false smiles and paint a portrait of perfect happiness pains her deeply. Her existence, without Light, has no meaning. No substance. And she feels utterly useless. He valued her gifts. He _exploited_ them, a nasty voice tells her deep within the pits of her mind.

She sticks out a foot warily over the surface. She trembles harder, her ability to stay upright deteriorating. She clutches the large black crucifix dangling from her neck and squeezes it hard.

Soon, she will join Light. And perhaps, he will love her as he had never loved her in the mortal world. Perhaps, now rid of his mortal coil, the goodness she's always believed to be there will shine through. And he shall look at her in a different light. And, whether they bask in the warm glow of heaven or smolder in the stinging embers of hell, they shall suffer through it together. And Light will be truly hers. And she will be his. And all of these mortal complications will seem so insignificant…

She chuckles softly as she places her elevated foot firmly on the concrete. She rips the crucifix from her neck and dangles it over the water. A bright red ring swells around her neck. Even God would mock her fantasies, provided that there is a God at all. Light's soul is damned to some foul place that is neither heaven nor hell— one of the vilest consequences of the Death Note. And she knows this. So why would she want to be with him?

Actually—would Light want her with him?

She was sure the answer was no. She has been sure for quite some time.

With a loud plop, the crucifix sinks below the surface.

She had given Light her entire life while he still walked this earth. And she'd gladly do it again. Yet, it is with great reluctance that Misa accepts the true reason that she is relinquishing her life—again.

She stretches out her arms and tilts her heavy head back; the image of a terrible, magnificent dark angel. Her eyes are shut. She cannot bear to view the fate she is about to inflict on herself. With one graceful leap in the air, she almost _floats_; seconds later, her svelte body crashes into the watery depths. She never reemerges.

She sacrificed herself not out of intense love for Light; she sacrificed herself out of intense hatred for herself and all she had done out of love.


End file.
